


Coming Home

by BrokenBones (Hikarinimichitasora)



Series: One Shots and Writing Prompts [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, NSFW, PWP, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Prompt Fill?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:40:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikarinimichitasora/pseuds/BrokenBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a moment. A moment where Leonard knew it was inevitable. That this moment had been coming for years and he’d just been too pigheaded to see it. That when Jim opened the door to his apartment, medical band still round his wrist with a goddamn time of death on it, he knew he wasn’t going to return back to his own home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pepsi_Colah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pepsi_Colah/gifts).



> For Pepsi-Colah to inspire her to draw because she's an awesome artist

There was a moment. A moment where Leonard knew it was inevitable. That this moment had been coming for years and he’d just been too pigheaded to see it. That when Jim opened the door to his apartment, medical band still round his wrist with a goddamn time of death on it, he knew he wasn’t going to return back to his own home.

Jim didn’t say anything to invite him in. The invitation was implicit. The words didn’t need to be spoken between them, not now. They had always communicated better with what they didn’t say rather than what they did. That beneath all the teasing, the name calling, the sharp words, something had developed that was more than understanding, more than friendship. And they didn’t need words to define it.

Jim threw his things down on the hallway floor, kicking off his shoes and Leonard followed suit. He walked past Jim, heading for the liquor cabinet and pouring them both healthy measures of Jim’s Scotch. He returned with it, putting it into Jim’s hands and raising his own in a silent toast.

_To surviving, to being here still, to not leaving me alone, to saving everyone, to what we both know is about to happen._

They drank.

When Jim had finished his glass, Leonard reached out to take it from him. Their fingers brushed, heat and warmth and aching familiarity that wasn’t familiar in the ways that mattered yet but still felt like coming home. Leonard didn’t even bother to turn away, discarding the glasses quickly.

Jim tried to turn away, overwhelmed by the sudden intimacy, eyes showing the first hint of fear at the inevitability but Leonard caught his wrist. His hands brushed against the plastic tag. He could feel Jim’s pulse against his fingertips.

He pulled and Jim came to him. He didn’t have to. He could have resisted, fought this, denied he wanted this, needed it, but he didn’t. Jim’s body pressed against his own and Leonard used his other arm to anchor I’m to him by the waist, his grip still loosely cradling the captain’s wrist between them.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to the trapped fingertips. Jim still didn’t speak, but his breathing hitched softly. Leonard stared into blue eyes he had thought would never open again and saw Jim’s desire, wonder, awe. He waited for Jim to open his hand before laying kisses against his palm, stubble grazing lightly over the soft skin.

Jim’s free hand rose, cupping his cheek, thumb stroking his jaw before gently guiding his face back up.

The first kiss was like darkness and gold, exploding in Leonard’s chest and pulling him deeper and deeper into the inescapable devotion he had to this man. He could feel Jim’s lips, rough, chapped, gliding over his own. Feel the soft flutter of his breath, the heat of his tongue, the gentle press of his clothed body against Leonard’s own.

Leonard let go of Jim’s wrist, letting his hands run down a torso he’d put back together more than once, that he knew intimately from medical records and bio scans but had never been allowed to touch like this. His hands reverently traced over clavicle and pectoral, down abdominal muscles and over hip bones. Jim shuddered against him, breathing heavier, gasping against Leonard’s mouth.

"Bones…" Jim whimpered, and it undid everything. Like a tidal wave, held back only to hit the shore with unalterable force, Leonard couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

Jim’s shirt was torn from his body, his simple black undershirt and pants being stripped from him with almost medical efficiency. Jim tried to grasp at Leonard’s clothing too, removing them clumsily, pulling and warping and tugging until they were free, unbound, skin against skin in the centre of Jim’s lounge and not even caring.

Leonard felt Jim’s hands skimming over his arms up to his shoulders before Jim’s mouth joined them. Delicate kisses became increasingly fervent, damp red splotches left against his tanned skin as Jim sought to leave his mark where he never had been given permission to before.

When they finally fell broke apart, panting, flushed, aroused beyond measure, Leonard knew they weren’t going to make it to the bed. He pulled Jim with him onto the couch, arranging himself beneath the other, feeling Jim’s long legs straddle his hips as the other ground down against him.

His body felt washed clean, purified by Jim’s touches that were cool yet heated him beneath his skin in a way he’d never thought another person could.

He met Jim’s eyes. He’d always thought they could see through him, deep into him where his secrets lay. He’d trusted Jim with them. Always. Completely. Now he could see that the stare that had always pierced him worked both ways. Jim’s eyes were clear, a window into his own soul and what Leonard saw there…

_I never want to leave you._

And it didn’t need to be said.

There was a moment when Leonard wondered if he was going to have to remind Jim of certain necessities, though he wasn’t sure he’d have found the words to be able to do so, but Jim merely reached over for his duffel, pulling out massage oil that had been used to get unwilling muscles back to full strength.

He didn’t wait for Leonard, spilling the slickness across his own fingers and reaching back. Leonard knew the moment that the fingers entered Jim, the way his best friend’s face changed from flushed and wanting to a deep, hungry desire that hooded his eyes and made him catch his lip between his teeth.

He watched, staring openly as Jim opened himself, put the whole of himself, all that he was, on show and asked Leonard to accept it. Leonard couldn’t have looked away even if he had been ordered to. The harsh breaths and almost inaudible moans that passed through Jim’s lips captured his attention completely, his own desire almost secondary to the desire to see Jim forever like this.

Then Jim was moving, wiping his hands on a discarded shirt, reaching once more for the oil as he gently reached forward and touched Leonard for the first time. The strokes were firm, sure, as though Jim knew exactly how he liked it, like he could read it from his mind and body without anything more needing to be done. Leonard bucked his hips into the other’s hand until he was slicked and sweating, a bead of sweat sliding across his ribs.

Jim finally removed his hand, shifting, raising up before slowly, oh so slowly, taking Leonard into himself. For a moment, a beautiful breathless moment, Leonard could see the way Jim’s muscles trembled, the way his lips formed a silent moan of his name, then Jim’s head rolled back and his hips began to move. A slow undulation at first, rocking over and over until Leonard gripped his hips, jerking his own up to meet him.

The pace changed, the worshipping giving way to something baser, something faster, hotter, darker. Leonard could hear their skin slapping together, hear his own helpless groans and Jim’s quiet whine as he tried to keep the relentless pace.

Jim came first, hot wet seed spurting onto Leonard’s stomach without the doctor even having to touch his cock. Jim’s body grew tight, constricting until Leonard felt like he couldn’t breathe. His eyes closed as though in prayer as his head was thrown back, orgasm ripped from him, spreading through him, washing over him until he was shuddering beneath Jim, his final thrusts aftershocks of habit before he stopped, buried deep inside Jim.

He felt Jim lean forward, his cheek pressing against his chest, eyelashes tickling skin beneath his collarbone. He raised a hand, stroking through his sweat dampened hair.

"Welcome home, Jim," he said softly, his voice rough and gravelly. Jim’s hand linked with his own, medical band still hanging loosely from his wrist.

"It’s good to be home at last, Bones."


End file.
